


My Everything

by halfmoonjisung



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: (ships and characters to be updated as chapters get posted), Familial Love, Huang Ren Jun-centric, M/M, Platonic Love, Romantic love, everybody loves renjun in their own way, lifetimes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27683090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfmoonjisung/pseuds/halfmoonjisung
Summary: Renjun has existed in twenty two lifetimes, and in every single one, he always disappears.Though in every single one, he also becomes someone’s everything.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Everyone, Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 98





	My Everything

**Author's Note:**

> *clears throat* hello. welcome to the product of my excessive listening to _my everything_
> 
> ⇒ this is mostly an excuse to write drabbles about renjun and all the members
> 
> ⇒ this will explore romantic, platonic and familial love at some point! again, it will all come down to a matter of personal preference lol
> 
> ⇒ yeah please stream “my everything” while you’re here! (and sorry for the mistakes! i was sleepy when i wrote this)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this lifetime, Renjun is an academic star with big goals and a bright mind;
> 
> And Donghyuck is the rival flame that keeps him from burning out.

It’s Donghyuck who meets Renjun in the first lifetime.

However, it was not a pleasant meeting. They were twelve, and Donghyuck was young and reckless. 

His elementary school always participated in those interschool quiz bee competitions where they send the best student in each year level to represent them. Donghyuck was always included in the students they pick, given that he is the top of their batch—and he never disappoints. In every single competition, he wins.

Until sixth grade.

For the first time in Donghyuck’s record, he placed second.

The first placer?

A transfer student in a Moomin shirt tucked into the ugliest pair of khaki shorts Donghyuck had ever seen. When they gave out the awards, Donghyuck made sure to remember the boy’s name.

“And our interschool quiz bee champion is none other than Huang Renjun!” The quizmaster had announced.

_ Huang Renjun,  _ Donghyuck repeated to his thoughts. Even the name felt sour in his mind.

After the awarding ceremony, Renjun rushed towards him with an outstretched palm. “Congratulations!”

He should’ve accepted the handshake. At that time, it was only polite to do so. It was also the right thing to do. However, Donghyuck was twelve; he was young, reckless and susceptible to being overruled by his emotions.

The bitterness he was feeling was what caused Donghyuck to spare Renjun’s hand only one quick glance before walking away. He didn’t even look back.

  
  
  


The next time he saw Renjun was, once again, in another quiz bee competition. Donghyuck was fourteen now, a fresh eight grader from one of the most popular and well-received Science High Schools of the province. Once again, he was the representative of their school. 

Though, in the competition venue, Renjun unexpectedly arrived, uniform bearing the logo of one of the most expensive private schools, his entrance to the room looking like an impending warning to his competitors.

When his eyes met Donghyuck’s, he scowled.

Donghyuck scoffed.  _ Bring it on, Huang Renjun. _

In that particular competition, they both tied for second, and someone named Lee Jeno took the first place. Donghyuck wasn’t annoyed that he didn’t get first place—he was annoyed because he wasn’t able to beat Renjun.

_ Next time,  _ Donghyuck swore to himself as he glared at the silver medal hanging by his neck.  _ I’ll get him next time. _

  
  
  


Indeed, he managed to do just that.

Academic quiz bees have become a thing now in every interschool competition hosted by a university or academy celebrating their Foundation day. Because of that, Donghyuck was called to compete often. Because of that, he saw Renjun opposite the buzzer table more often.

Renjun’s strongest forte was calculations, but his weaknesses lie in all of Donghyuck’s strengths—history and literature. So when the quizmaster asked about the first European to lead an expedition in the Pacific as the clincher question, Donghyuck knew the game was his.

“Vasco Nuñez de Balboa,” he had answered confidently.

There was triumph when the quizmaster proclaimed him the final winner, but Donghyuck got the real victory he sought for in Renjun’s defeated stare.

Ever since then, it had become his lifelong mission to always be the last one laughing in everything that involved Renjun.

  
  
  


Renjun won the next contest. The clincher was a chemistry question, and Renjun already pressed the buzzer while Donghyuck was still halfway through his solution.

The ghost of Renjun’s condescending smirk haunted him after the competition ended, and followed him even until he fell asleep.

Donghyuck dreamed of wiping the taunting look away from Renjun’s face. When he woke up the next day, he was determined to do just that in the next competition.

  
  
  


All the academic quiz bees and decathlons they participated in were never about the competition itself to them. Donghyuck held more value in beating Renjun than winning the entire thing, and he just naturally believed that Renjun probably thought the same thing.

  
  
  


Donghyuck was sixteen when his mom conveniently had free time for the first time in three months which coincided with another academic competition. It brought him a bit on edge than all the previous contests—he didn’t want to let his mom down, not when she cancelled her plans just to support him.

Unfortunately for him, Renjun found him sulking in the bathroom a few minutes before the competition started. Donghyuck refused to look at Renjun when the other guy tried to catch his eye through the mirror by the sink.

“Saw a woman that looked like you in the crowd,” Renjun mused. “Your mom?”

Donghyuck didn’t answer. He wasn’t in the mood to tolerate any potential  _ Mama’s Boy  _ jokes his way, so he just made his way to the arena and left Renjun behind. The guy was the least of his problems anyway—he wasn’t going to let Renjun rile him up more than he already was.

As usual, it came down to him and Renjun fighting for the first place once again.

“Please,” Donghyuck whispered under his breath. “Please let me have this one.”

“The last question is in the field of Mathematics.”

_ Oh god. _

Donghyuck groaned as he grudgingly placed a scratch paper on the table. He has never managed to beat Renjun in anything that involved calculations. Somehow, Renjun solves and analyzes faster, and just when Donghyuck figures out what to do with the problem, Renjun already has an answer.

So, imagine Donghyuck’s surprise when he finished solving the problem and Renjun hasn’t buzzed yet. Still, he wasn’t going to waste time pondering about it, at least not yet. He pressed his own buzzer, spoke his answer through the microphone, and won the competition.

After his coach and his mom showered him with praises and camera flashes, Donghyuck managed to catch up with a retreating Renjun.

“Why’d you do it?” He asked immediately as soon as he caught up to Renjun.

Renjun didn’t look at him. “Do what?”

“Let me win,” Donghyuck answered, still not believing the words that came out of his mouth. “You  _ love  _ math. The problem was about probability. You never get those wrong.”

Renjun smirked. “I’m flattered you pay enough attention to me.”

“Huang,” Donghyuck said in a more serious tone that it stopped them both in their tracks. “Why’d you do it?”

Renjun sighed, looking at where Donghyuck’s mom was talking to the head of the competition, probably boasting Donghyuck as much as she could.

“Your mom was here,” Renjun simply replied. “From the way you acted a while ago, it must be important to you. That’s bigger than whatever’s going on between us during competitions.”

Donghyuck was silent.

“Besides,” Renjun said as he started to walk again. “I can always beat you next time.”

  
  
  


When next time came, Donghyuck approached Renjun’s team before the competition proper and dropped off a whole pack of Hershey chocolate bars.

Before Renjun could speak, Donghyuck cuts him off by saying “We’re even,” and then, in a smaller voice, “Good luck.”

Na Jaemin won that competition. Liu Yangyang came second. Lee Jeno was third. Neither Renjun nor Donghyuck made it to the top three. Somehow, Donghyuck didn’t mind that.

  
  
  


That was probably the start of their civil treatment towards each other. Before every competition, they would bid each other “good luck”, and in most days, Donghyuck meant it. If he was feeling particularly nice too, he’d congratulate him after the round. He did it at first with the intention of mocking him and showing off, however the sentiment gradually became genuine as more competitions passed.

  
  
  


Donghyuck was eighteen and in his last year of high school when the National Institute of Science announced the commencement of the biggest academic decathlon yet. It would start off in their respective cities, and then move to the provincial category, and then to regionals, and finally reach the nationals.

The way Donghyuck saw it, it’s a free pass to whatever university you wanted to get into. The top three winners of the national decathlon would be granted sponsored scholarships for their first year of college, and Donghyuck, not really wanting to stress his parents out with the rising tuition fee prices, needed that benefit.

He effortlessly breezed through the citywide competition. It was an easy win, especially since his usual competent opponents all came from cities different from him. He’s particularly worried about the provincial category, knowing that he would encounter the usual participants he kept eyes on. One of them being Renjun, of course.

However, before he could see Renjun at the provincial level, he found him in one of the libraries between the city borders, reading up a book about World History.

Donghyuck was only there to borrow a few more Math textbooks so he could practice solving more—that was the plan he made up in his head. It definitely did not include sitting across the table where Renjun was busy minding his own business, and yet there he was.

Renjun drops the book for a while to raise an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Studying,” Donghyuck shrugs, opening up the textbook. “I can’t lose to you now, not when there’s a valuable prize already.”

He hears Renjun scoff slightly. “You do know they’re taking the top three, right? You just have to place somewhere there and you’re good.”

“Mmm…” Donghyuck hums, copying down a problem he spots. “Whatever you say.”

Donghyuck attempts to solve at least three problems with his phone serving as a stopwatch to keep track of how long he’s taking with them. He frowns every time he sees record, especially since they all look worse than the previous one.

He hears Renjun sigh. “Hand me the book.”

Donghyuck squints his eyes. “Why?”

“Just do it, Lee,” Renjun’s outstretched hand is shaking impatiently. “Give me the book.”

He hands Renjun the textbook, watching carefully as the other guy skims the pages and stops on a particular lesson.

Donghyuck frowns once he sees the topic. “Trigonometry?”

“Yeah, you’re awfully bad at it,” Renjun tells him. He then motions for Donghyuck to move closer so he can properly see the page. “You keep using the cosine law for pythagorean triplets. It’s sad watching you do it.”

Donghyuck scoffs. “Not everybody’s as quick as you.”

“I know,” Renjun says. “That’s why I’m going to teach you.”

That takes Donghyuck by surprise. “What?

“What do you mean ‘ _ what’?” _

“Why are you helping me?”

Renjun sighs. “Look, do you want that scholarship or what?”

Donghyuck purses his lips. When he doesn’t answer, Renjun eventually starts to teach him techniques.

He didn’t want to admit it, but Renjun actually helped a lot. Donghyuck found out about new shortcuts that could help him lessen his solutions, as well as helpful formulas that could save him time. He went home that day, thinking about how Renjun went out of his way to help Donghyuck even when he had every reason not to.

It bothered Donghyuck. Although, it wasn’t the slightest bit in the negative way.

  
  
  
  


It was easy to find Renjun’s twitter. Donghyuck already knew the account for years now, he just didn’t really follow it. He broke that streak just to be able to send Renjun a direct message.

_ i easily absorb more information through creative informative vids,  _ he typed.  _ here’s a few links. hope they help. _

He then sent a bunch of animated history YouTube video links after that, shutting his phone down before he could even check what Renjun’s reply was.

“Even,” Donghyuck mumbled to his pillow that night as he was about to fall asleep. “We’re even again.”

  
  
  


Renjun placed first in the provincial decathlon, with Donghyuck being a close second. They were both eligible to advance to the regional round.

He was halfway out the stadium when Renjun caught up to him.

“Thanks,” Renjun said instantly. “The videos helped a lot.”

Donghyuck smiled. “I know.”

For a while, they stood there, neither of them wanting to be the one to step away first. Donghyuck wasn’t even sure what he was waiting for—he just was. Renjun was not exactly opaque with his emotions as well; he looked like he wanted to say something, but he kept holding himself back.

Eventually, Renjun cleared his throat. “See you in regionals.”

“See you,” Donghyuck bid wistfully to Renjun’s now retreating figure.

  
  
  


Donghyuck was eighteen now. He first met Renjun when he was twelve. In those six years, he realized that he never really knew who Huang Renjun was. He only knew that he liked to match his shirts with ugly shorts, and that he was just as book smart as Donghyuck. However, that’s all Donghyuck knew. He didn’t know what was his favorite color, what was his ambition in life, what was he like as a friend—he didn’t know anything.

And still, in those six years, Donghyuck’s life revolved around Renjun. He let everything be about a stranger he didn’t know well but he wanted to beat, no matter what.

Donghyuck only realized about it one night while he was practicing the geometry techniques Renjun taught him once again. He ditched a pythagorean problem and decided to think about the other guy. So far, Donghyuck knew that Renjun was the type to give up victory to you if it really meant a lot to you, and was also the type to get out of his way to help you out. That, and the countless annoying thoughts Donghyuck had about him back when they were still young.

He didn’t really know Renjun. Not at all.

Perhaps, that could change.

  
  
  


It was raining on the day of the regional decathlon. Donghyuck was stuck on a shed near the venue, waiting for the rain to go away.

From a distance, he could see a figure rushing towards the shed. It was only when the person stood beside him that he recognized who it was.

“Huang?”

Renjun takes his jacket off as he sends Donghyuck a curt nod. “Hi. I see you didn’t come with your coach as well.”

Donghyuck shrugs. “I told him to go first.”

“Mmm…” Renjun hums.

Silence settles comfortably between them again. Donghyuck is scrambling in his head for a conversation topic when Renjun beats him to it.

“So,” Renjun begins. “Which university were you eyeing?”

Donghyuck sighs. “JYU.”

Renjun raises his eyebrow. “That’s a  _ big  _ school.”

“I know,” Donghyuck says. “That’s why I need the scholarship.”

Renjun nods. “You’re a bright kid. You’ll get it.”

“If you say so,” Donghyuck trails. And then, “What about you?”

“Me?”

“Which uni are you planning on going to?”

“Same as you,” Renjun laughs. “I do hope we don’t have to fight each other too once we’re there.”

It was supposed to be a joke, but somehow, the implication that he and Renjun have done nothing but time stirred something in Donghyuck.

“You’ll get it. You’re a bright kid,” Donghyuck uses Renjun’s own words with him, making the guy chuckle. “I have a feeling you will.”

“Man,” Renjun breathes out. “When did we become like this?”

_ This. _

Genuine conversations, a few jokes here and there.

_ This. _

Donghyuck doesn’t have an answer, but he’s glad altogether that they’re there.

And then, after mustering up courage, he finally asks, “Do you want to get coffee together after the competition?”

Renjun blinks at him. “What?”

“Coffee,” Donghyuck repeats, smiling. “Like, getting-to-know/each-other-over-coffee. Celebrate-our-eligibility-to-compete-in-the-next-round coffee.”

Renjun gives him an apologetic smile. “I can’t today. I have somewhere to be.”

“Then after the nationals,” Donghyuck says boldly.

Renjun is laughing again now. “How are you so sure we’ll even reach nationals?”

“I just do.”

“Fine,” Renjun says after a long time. “Let’s get coffee after nationals, assuming we advance to there.”

Once the rain stopped, they immediately went to the venue to their respective coaches. Donghyuck’s coach, Ten, made a comment about the smile that couldn’t seem to be wiped away from his face. He doesn’t say anything.

Donghyuck got first place in regionals. Renjun placed third because he misspelled a location which led to a Xiao Dejun getting the second place. However, he was still in the top three, which meant they’re advancing to the finals.

“Congratulations,” Donghyuck told him after the awarding.

“Right back at you,” Renjun replied. He then glanced towards the exit. “I have to go now. Good bye.”

As Donghyuck waved at Renjun’s retreating body, he said, “Let’s get into JYU together.”

Renjun seemed to have heard this because he looked back and smiled.

Donghyuck went home that day feeling light and triumphant—and it’s certainly not because of the new trophy he recently got, lounging on his desk.

It was something— _ someone _ else.

  
  
  
  


_ good luck,  _ the message read.

It was sent at twelve am. Donghyuck was able to read it at seven am. He messaged another “good luck” back to Renjun, to which he got no reply at all.

_ Just a few more days,  _ Donghyuck thought.  _ And then I’ll see him again. _

  
  
  
  


On the day of the national decathlon, Renjun was nowhere to be found. On top of that, his school had a different representative altogether. Donghyuck wasn’t sure that’s allowed, so he raised his concern to Ten.

“What do you mean?” Ten asks.

“I’m talking about Renjun, Huang Renjun,” Donghyuck replies. “You know? Guy I always talked about? Well, they were mostly bad stuff but I’m past that now.”

Ten places a hand on Donghyuck’s forehead. “Mmm… nope, not sick.”

“What are you doing?”

“You mean, what are  _ you  _ doing?” Ten responds. “I think you’ve been studying too much. Take a break, you still have thirty minutes before the competition.”

Donghyuck is growing irritated now. “Where is Renjun?”

Ten looks at him incredulously. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

Donghyuck blinks. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“He’s the representative of Brightfields Academy! That expensive private school in our province!”

Ten sighs. “Donghyuck, Mark has always been the representative of Brightfields Academy. I have no idea who’s the Huang Renjun you’re talking about.”

Donghyuck’s stomach sinks. “But… but…”

He doesn’t know what else to say, so he pulls out his phone instead. He quickly logs in on twitter and goes to his direct messages, hoping to find a trace of Renjun somewhere. He feels his heart drop once he couldn’t find any. Their messages are gone. Renjun’s account is gone.

Despite Ten’s warning, Donghyuck goes around, asking about Renjun. People always end up telling him the same thing—they don’t know a Huang Renjun.

It’s like he never existed.

“Renjun,” Donghyuck says, mostly to himself. “Huang Renjun.”

He tries to picture how Renjun looks like.

“Huang— uh… H—“

He can feel the memory of Renjun’s image fading away.

“Damn it!” Donghyuck curses. “Renjun… Ren—“

The vision is hazy now.

“Ren… Ren…” Donghyuck helplessly whispers.

There’s no longer an image in his mind.

Donghyuck can’t even remember the name.

There was a name, wasn’t it? He’s sure there was.

There  _ was _ someone.

“Hyuck,” Ten reaches him, eyes filled with concern. “Come on, you still have a competition in a few minutes.”

  
  
  


Donghyuck places third. He was still eligible to be granted a scholarship.

Even though the day went perfectly fine, he can’t help but feel like he’s been missing something.  _ Someone. _

He brushed those thoughts off once Ten told him he’d treat Donghyuck to coffee as their way of celebrating. He’d dwell on them later.

  
  
  
  


He never did.

  
  
  
  


He has homework due tomorrow at twelve am, which should be a sin in itself. Donghyuck strongly believes that deadlines set at 12:00 am are incredibly deceptive, because it gives the students the illusion that they still have time when in reality, they don’t.

JYU is harder than Donghyuck first imagined it. Other than the difficult lessons, the professors act like they’re having a competition among themselves between  _ who gets to give the most requirements to their students? _

Donghyuck hates Mathematics above all subjects, and he’s still unfortunate enough to get a professor who’s not even the least bit considerate. He checks his watch.  _ 10:30 PM.  _ He still has two problems left.

Halfway through the last problem, which is asking about sine laws and cosine laws, Donghyuck couldn’t take it anymore. His eyelids feel heavy, and eventually, he lets them drop.

Amidst the dark, he sees a glimpse of a hidden memory. It doesn’t seem much, with the hazy vision and all, but Donghyuck can at least make out a Moomin shirt tucked in ugly khaki shorts.

Donghyuck wakes up with a jolt. He checks his watch again.  _ 11:25 _ . 

He shakes his head and proceeds to finish his homewok instead.

  
  



End file.
